Cruel Intentions
by mrsholymonster
Summary: A very different and unfortunate turn of events for Damon and Elena after the Mikaelson ball in Dangerous Liaisons, 3x14 .
1. Chapter 1

_**The truth of the matter is that being with you was the only time I have ever been happy. My whole life has been a joke. I prided myself on taking joy in others' misery. Well, it finally backfired.**_

_"Well maybe that's the problem."_

The words rung in his ears, the sting a constant in his heart. He knew just how fragile he'd always been even if his exterior never showed it, but those words in response to a confession of love were not what he expected, not from Elena Gilbert. She had a heart of pure gold and he was always the one to ease her through her troubles, help her smooth out the bumps that were caused in her life. What was he to do when she'd caused the one bump he hadn't expected from her? The one that caused a crack in his ice coated heart.  
>He'd found his way back to the boarding house in a numbed stupor, her words has sliced him like a knife and yet he'd managed to throw back his own heavily weighted words before he left in a confident stride, the last thing he would give the source of his current suffering was the satisfaction of watching him crumble before her eyes. No. He would straighten up and walk away as if her words had held no affect on him. But this right here, this was his moment to fall apart. The vacant house did not hold enough alcohol to assist him in pulling his impenetrable shell back into position, it was simply the perfect place to allow it to slip completely, leaving his scars and freshly made wounds bare until he hid himself behind his old facade and made his way to the local watering hole where there was always a never ending supply for him to drown his sorrows in.<p>

A stumble over the edge of an upturned rug left him with his palm pressed against the wood of the mantle place, staring into the empty hallow of the fire. He lifted the crystalized glass to his perfectly formed mouth and allowed the comforting liquid to pour past his lips and sooth itself down his throat. The first powerless shot of his many remedies that were rendered useless to these deep rooted emotions. His mind raced as he stared at nothing that lay before him, the image set in his eyes was of a dark angel that owned every thought that passed through his head. This time was different though, the usual tint of sheer joy that the very visual of her brought forward was no longer present, it was replaced with a feeling that could only be described as alike to the twisting of a knife in the pit of your stomach.  
>He felt the wood beneath his grasp begin to crumble as he became overwhelmed with his own inner turmoil and tears flooded over his heavy lids. In a fit of rage between himself and the girl who had reduced him to this, he flung the delicate glass at the opposing wall and watched it shatter into one million pieces, that had become his signature move over the last few months, breaking the crystal.<p>

As the tears rolled their path across his cheek and he stood there, defeated, his knees about to give way beneath the burden he was bearing, he heard an angelic tone cross the vast emptiness of the room. "Damon?" His head shot up to identify who the voice belonged to although he would have been able to pick that voice out in a screaming crowd. He was stood before her with despair written across his face and he couldn't mask it fast enough to hide it from her forever inspecting gaze. He couldn't put a name to the emotion he seen write itself across her face, it was a twinge of pain mixed with something he'd seen displayed on her soft features multiple times and yet to this day he had never taken the time to label it.

After he'd allowed the shock to simmer down he done the best job possible in his current state to add a hardened edge to his features as he straightened his back and took a few deliberate steps towards her. "What do you want, Elena? Haven't you and your sneaking around caused enough trouble for one night?" A slight grimace presented itself upon her lips as she dropped her gaze momentarily to murmur in a defeated tone. "Damon, I didn't mean that. You know I didn't. You were just being so-" She found herself at a loss for words, how could she phrase it correctly without leaving yet another mark on him? She wanted to say that his feelings scared her. The depth of them. The immensity. Her urge to return them freely, to throw every other factor of their situation out the window and let it simply be the two of them. The thought was selfish, to say the least. Both on Damon and everyone else effected. It was something she considered her best trait and yet it caused such inner conflict at times; her need to take care of everyone at the same time, cause no harm and heal any that she did. Someone was bound to get hurt along the way and this time it had been Damon. She knew the prying ears of the other Salvatore would be finely tuned in when Damon had blurted out that infamous declaration and she reacted how she felt fitting to the circumstances they were under; why did he have to say it there? Of all places!

She shook her head of the constant ramblings she was throwing back and forth with herself and sought out the mesmerizing pools of blue that she so often got caught in. "You took me by surprise." The scoff that pushed itself past his lips stunned her briefly, although she shouldn't have expected anything less from him with the state that he was in; she could practically see the walls around him growing higher and higher by the second. "I get it, Elena. It's Stefan, it's always going to be Stefan." With a seemingly droll roll of his eyes he took a step to make his way around her, but he found himself falling short of his step at her following words. "Not anymore." He turned to meet her sporting a startled expression, a doe eyed girl caught in the headlights. She was scared, the worst kind of fear a person can feel, it was the terror of her own thoughts and words that had set into her. That was the second time tonight she'd allowed a slip and her lips began open and close like a fish out of water, desperately pleading for them to form words, but nothing came of them. "What do you mean by that?" He questioned while she still stood before him, floundering in the mess she'd now flung herself into. "I didn't-" She gave a shake of her head, her chocolate brown eyes stayed trained to the floor in refusal to meet his own. "_What _do you mean, _Elena_?" For the briefest moment his mind raced to that faithful night in her bedroom after she had dragged him from the pits of wolf infested city and she refused to give him a straight out answer as to why. That night he had pushed her, so that was exactly what he repeated. 

With his demanding words still lingering in the air he took a step forward to give him the advantage of towering over her, leaving her feeling trapped. Her eyes flickered up to meet his own and she allowed her stare to linger for the length of a couple dozen of heartbeats, forcing herself to find that comfort that only looking into the depths of his soul brought, although now that was tainted with his forceful ways and hurt, she could still find that place within him with just a single glance and even in this moment as he attempted to uphold his unwavering stance, he felt his heart thawing under that spell casting hold of hers and she could see the effect she was having on him with such a simple thing, drawing confidence in her words from that. "Not anymore, Damon. Stefan is in my past, and my future is-" She once again cut off her sentence before its end and lifted her hand to graze her fingertips along the defined line of his jaw, taking in an unsteady breath as she awaited his reaction. She spotted that familiar look in his eyes, that look that was so specifically hers, it was practically written in his eyes; I am yours. With his silence as an added sign, with a shaky exterior urged on by a sturdy decision behind it, she leaned herself against his body for support as her lips met his in a sugar tinted kiss that she slowly melted into.

How did he feel? He didn't have the slightest clue. Only a moment ago he was in control of this situation, he had been shadowing over her in a threatening manner, now he stood before her, a victim to whatever course of action she chose to take. And this was what she had decided, she had decided to take advantage of how he stood in a stupor before her and molded her own lips to his, his eyes sliding shut at the contact as his exterior attempted to connect to the whizz of thoughts flying about in his mind. This was what she turned him to, a man who could be broken down to pure putty in her hands at a simple, if that's what you could consider this gesture, kiss. No. You know what? He wasn't going to allow that, if she was so sure of this step, he was going to make it worthwhile. He took her face in his hands with his usual firm hold and yet he took on something he'd never felt the need to with anybody else, a gentleness to the secure fitting to her rounded cheeks. The way his hands molded to her face were not enough to cause her any physical harm, though there was an instinct that was brought on only by the precious thing before him that feared a different level of hurt, as if if he were to give off the wrong impression in his manner, he would frighten her, drive her away. She uprooted that human side of him. It wasn't even that simple, she didn't just uncover it, she had become it. She represented everything weak and strong about him, he was not lost with her presense, she was what kept him grounded yet drove him to complete insanity at the thought of rejection. He loved blindlessly and recklessy; as did she. Twin flames, so completely fitted to one another that an onlooker would only identify with the blaze in their relationship, whether they seen the fiery passion in a form of anger or lust was unique to every specific person, of course. But what they would never see was the emotion underlying it. So atuned to one another, yet their actions were unpredictable to the other.

With those raw emotions bubbling to the surface and fueling him, he allowed the full force of his affections to flow into the movement of his lips upon hers, forming over her own plump lips in a dominating kiss, only after a few moments he found the lips beneath his responding with the same enthusiasm he was putting in and that only added to the spark between them. His thumbs made a repeated path along her cheekbones, although the soothing stroke seemed out of place in such a heightened moment, it brought just the touch Elena felt was needed to perfect the moment. He wasn't done with her yet, he vowed to himself that this would not be something she could brush under the rug, it would not be something she would _want _to dismiss, this would be the head spinning experience any woman would gush to their friends about, and the fact that only she would experience something on this emotional level with him would only deepen the attachment to it. His tongue sought entry to her mouth which was quickly answered with granted entry, and he allowed himself to explore the new area, the taste that was so _Elena _lingering deliciously on his tastebuds, her own tongue attempting to make its match against him for dominance, though he was given the advantage of surprise with his feverish assault on her mouth, which she welcomed so selfishly.

It didn't take long for Damon to realize she was becoming breathless, just like the delicate little human she was, he pulled himself back from her but not before a few dwelling turns of his lips left an impact upon her. She was still resting against his chest for the support, her eyes remaning shielded behind hooded lids as she attempted to adapt to the dizzying state he'd left her in, she was undoubtedly kiss drunk. An air of smugness washed over him as his own gaze scanned over her features, he wondered if she realized that her lips were still faintly moving of their own accord, although he himself couldn't decide whether she was trying to string words together or her mouth still hadn't caught up to the situation. "Elena?" He murmured after she had a moment to steady her breath, his tone hitched with the tint of his egotistical ways. Her eyes fluttered open and she laid eyes upon him through a heavy curtain of lashes. "Hm?" Her voice had a shake to it and it brought a chuckle from his chest, followed by a tilt of his head. "Do you need a moment?" Almost instantly, her head bobbed in a light nod, although her features held an expression that still looked in a haze of pure satisfaction, no damn was indicated upon her porcelian skin. "I should.." She paused as a moment of indecision struck her, attempting to find the correct choice, between what she wanted and what she should probably do before she became overwhelmed by what she had just experienced; what had been brought on by her confession. "Go home." Another soft nod was given by her head and her eyes drifted downward to his lips, as they so often did when she craved them, though this time she craved the return of their warmth instead of curiousity driving her thoughts. "Are you sure you can get home by yourself?" His question rolled from his tongue in a playful manner, as he remained highly amused by the condition he had left her in. "Of course." Her voice so uncertain that Damon had to fight off yet another laugh, wanting her to remain in the little bubble of bliss he had created for her.

After declaring her decision to leave, she took a good chunk of a minute to seperate herself completely from Damon and then followed the movement into a step that was supported by wobbling knees. He stood ready to catch her at any moment, but as her usual stubborn side prevailed she made her way to the door to make her exit, just as she neared it she came to a stop and turned the upper half of her body to set her sights on the man before her; the devil himself. It was true what they said, the devil was a dangerous creature. Not in his abilities to cause harm, but in his charming and capturing ways. A deep inhale later she turned once again, gathering the sequin covered skirt of her dress in her hands and made her way out the door with Damon behind having taken no offence at her departure, he was simply being left to bask in the glory.

After tonight and the incident on the porch, he may just have to leave her cut off from the source of her desires more often. It made for a truly entertaining sight, seeing that longing in her eyes. Tonight had a slight difference though, there was no reluctance layered just beneath that want. She was his.


	2. Chapter 2

Now! Before we get into the good stuff, I just wanted to say thank you to those who have read chapter one and then encouraged me to carry on and make it into a proper fanfic and not just a one shot. I truly appreciate every single review you guys gave me and I literally got all excited and started practically bouncing off the walls when I got an email to say I got a review, or someone added the story to their favorites, or any of that other good stuff. I don't really have a point here other than saying thank you because you're all awesome for reading it in the first place, then you loving it was just an added bonus.  
>SO LALALA. I hope you enjoy chapter two, and if you do, feel free to leave a review and tell me why. Major hand hearts for you people.<p>

_**It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right.**_

Elena scanned the selection of books before her and quickly identified the only one with an uncreased spine. She pulled it from its place before she returned to her previous spot on the cushioned seat beside the window. A new diary for a new chapter of her life was what she needed. The last entry she could recall writing down was another story of a troubled day in paradise, with Stefan at her side. That phase of her life had passed. Not the stage of danger lurking around every corner, but it would no longer be Stefan who she longed to see standing ready to protect her after every move. It would be a certain blue-eyed devil.

She drifted back to the events last night. Her mind hadn't allowed her a moment of rest as she swam in thoughts. To her surprise, the kiss which had made her head spin was not the main focus of her musing; the last year of her life was instead. Between all the turmoil, secrets, death and discovery, she had fallen for the last person she would have paired herself off with in her own mind. He was psychotic, destructive, irrational and a first rate jackass. Though after all of that was said and done, he was a solid structure in her life. He was the one who could always paint a smile on her face and who always stood by her side, willing to lose everything. And even when he was standing on the side completely opposite to her own, his reasoning was still always to protect her at the risk of losing his most prized possession: her.

The concept caught her off guard, even unspoken in her own mind. She was a possession of his. Even the wording she had conjured up all on her own was so specifically Damon. The possessiveness of it fit him so well. He had never spoken it aloud, though she knew that was what his heart yearned for. To have her and be able to flaunt her to the rest of the world as his and only his. As she looked back across her endless memories of the past year, although it seemed like a lifetime, she pinpointed the various moments when she herself had stood by and witnessed him merely talking to other women and something she refused to label as jealousy had consumed her. She had no recognizable claim on him; she was his brother's girl, yet she'd always had to fight the urge to pry him away from any other female with clinging hands. As much as she knew he wanted to own her in every sense of the word, she wanted the very same. She longed to have that cocky, sarcastic, crude, sadistic, impulsive, infuriating, charming, chivalrous, secretly affectionate, protective man all to herself. She wanted to be able to speak the words "Damon Salvatore is mine."

All of these words spilled across the formerly blank pages as she allowed one final musing to flood her mind. What was Damon feeling right now?

What was he feeling? Pure and complete annoyance. But the day hadn't begun like that.

He'd woken this morning with the widest grin he'd sported in a long time and a spring in his step. Last night had truly set a new fire ablaze in the very depths of his soul. He had never experienced pure love in his life. He was always an inconvenience when he presented his feelings to others. Katherine and even his own father rejected him. He never dared to love after those early experiences, but Elena had snuck up on him and that was the only way to explain it. They'd crossed paths while she was in the process of falling for his brother, and he was in a desperate search of a way to bring back the cold hearted, soulless mirror image of the girl he treasured so entirely nowadays. Yet somewhere along both of their ventures, their threads had become so dangerously entangled over their course, with the surety of never coming undone. All along he'd come to see the clear connection between them that was so tangible that anyone who stood within viewing distance of them could feel in on the tips of their fingers.

Truth be told, he was sure she herself would never come to accept what was happening between them. She may have been aware of it but would not allow herself to admit to it. She was such a fiercely loyal little thing, becoming Katherine had been one of her greatest unspoken fears. Abandoning Stefan for his own brothers would have been a taboo in her own mind. He realized now that he probably hadn't made that rule very easy for her to upkeep, being his hard headed, persistent, unpredictable self. One moment he was completely understanding of her needs, willing to take the back seat to allow her her thoughts and decisions. The next, he was practically shaking her to pull an admission from her.

He realized now that maybe that was just why she had finally given into herself last night. _I like you now. Just the way you are. _Though he was in a heavy daze of illusions the night he'd heard those words, they were ones that would never stray from their place in his heart. It was unspoken until that moment, but all along Elena truly had been the one that did welcome him for who he genuinely was. Not the murderous vampire that everyone else saw, but the man from 1864 who still burned within him, simply laying damaged by his experiences. Not only did she accept this man, but she had grown to..dare he say, to **love **him?

Though of course, he was Damon, so nobody could allow him to remain in his happy bubble of these wonderful musings for longer than a few cherished moments. Not-so-saint Stefan had dug up Esther's plans to perform a sacrifice to kill her children and of course they just had to intervene. So here they were in all of their wonder twin glory strutting their way up to interrupt the plans of a witch that had the power of hundreds of dead witches backing her.

"What is the point behind this again, brother?" Damon couldn't fault what was going down today, so he didn't understand Stefan's desire to stop it. Momma original doesn't love her own kids, she slaughters them. Badda-bing, badda-boom. Clear sailing for team Salvatore, and no more threats to their little damsel's life.

"The point, Damon, is that I've been given every reason not to trust an original. Even one whose plan is to kill the originals themselves." With that, Damon gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes. It was probably just the easier choice to allow his baby bro some closure, let him at least believe he tried to stop whatever evil he thought this was going to bring. The truth of the matter was that it was highly unlikely two vampires that didn't even have half of a millennium between them could stop a witch who'd been plotting since the beginning of vampire kind.

"There." Stefan declared in a hushed tone as he nodded towards the witchy joojoo type circle etched across the ground, with momma original and the creepiest of her sons at her side.

"Esther. Finn." A cunning smirk worked its way across Damon's willing lips as the words left his mouth in an audible greeting. He ignored the sharp glare he received from Stefan as he continued to approach without caution. There went the plan of sneaking up on them out the window.

"Damon, Stefan. What are you doing here?" Esther was startled and there was no doubt as to why. Her plan had been of utmost secrecy. She just hadn't accounted for the fact that the Salvatores spent a good chunk of their days digging up others' plans. Finn stepped forward in a pathetically protective manner, pulling a snicker from both brothers.

"Damon and I aren't all too certain that your intent is as simple as it seems." The raven haired Salvatore gave a nod of confirmation at Stefan's words before sneakily sliding off to the side while the focus of both originals were on his brother. Damon's steps took on a circular route as he inspected the makeshift altar, attempting to gauge whether or not it was penetrable by a vampire that had not been granted permission.

"I think it would be best for both parties if you were to leave now, Stefan. Before I'm forced to take harsher actions." Without so much as a glance in his direction, the witch flung Damon back against the nearest wall with an audible crack echoing through the thinly wooded area. "I mean it."

Stefan flashed a quick glance in Damon's direction to make sure that he was still clinging to consciousness, but he should have known that the movement wouldn't cause anything other than a mild moment of confusion to a vampire. "Damon?" He called as a precautionary check. "Come on, we'll go."

Damon was no longer focused on the own spinning of his mind, or Stefan's trademark second thoughts. He was zoned in on the centre of that damn circle where that stupid bitch stood in all of her self assigned glory. "You are dead." His words were spat in an acidic tone as he lunged forward from where he'd fallen among the dirt, aiming himself not at the blonde haired witch, but at her son. The rage he felt fueling his strength to the point where he had the ability to snap his neck. He was only temporarily dead now, she couldn't go ahead with her little cooked up execution if her sacrifice wasn't conscious.

He couldn't have predicted the next move. With smugness misting over his gaze, he turned his blue eyes up to seek the woman he'd undoubtedly just pissed off to the highest degree. They found her, but a lot closer than expected and with a hand thrusting itself out to press down on his chest. Before he had time to even so much as question the action, she had spewed out a short incantation and he felt his throat closing up. His eyes grew wide as his hands flew to his throat in a desperate attempt to somehow stop whatever process was taking place. He was a vampire; surely something such as lack of oxygen couldn't have this type of effect on him.

Oh, but it did. It wasn't just that. It felt as if every vein in his body was slowly withering up and they began to rub against one another as if they were made of sandpaper. The worst came in the next instant, the attack on his mind. It was as if sharp microscopic needles were being pushed through every lobe of his brain. As he felt the last stages of the agony setting in, he heard a faded calling of his name. It wasn't from Stefan, nor from Esther. It was from his fallen angel, here to sooth him into the last moments of... whatever this was. Elena Gilbert, savior of the cursed and the damned. What a welcome hallucination this was. But this wasn't a normal vampire experience. This wasn't what was felt when deprived of blood. This wasn't what you went through when you were staked. Damon knew exactly what this was. It was as if he...

But before he could finish his own concluding thought, he lost all touch with the world around him. The last image that lay before him was his doe eyed girl, a blurry vision at his side.


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: This chapter isn't very long, but it's more of a filler for the next chapter (which, HOPEFULLY, I will get the inspiration to write up soon, considering I have a bit of a writer's kick going at the moment) so I hope it doesn't disappoint simply due to length (that's what he said). Enjoy!**_

Dull mumbling. The faint scent of coffee. Light padding footsteps. The distant creek of a door. Something similar to sniffling. Murmured words that were impossible to make out.

It was none of these things that jolted him from his unconscious state, it was the one thing they had in common. The fact that they were falling on untrained ears.

Damon's eyes shot open in the same instant that his body jumped to an upright position, and with what seemed like a snail's pace, his eyes adjusted to the scene in front of him.

Elena, always the first thing he unconsciously sought out, was sitting in a chair with tear stained cheeks and her doe like eyes portrayed the very definition of fear, and her pained gaze was directed right at his own. He felt an ache build instantaneously in his chest. That look on her face. It was the look of pure heartbreak. And even if he didn't know the root of it, he felt her pain in the very depths of his soul.

His secondary thought was the fact that her face didn't look right. It was..blurry? She was out of focus. The beautiful features of her porcelain face weren't as obvious anymore. The redness of her eyes that was brought on by crying, wasn't as striking as it should have been, and it wasn't as easy to make out the light golden flicks that accompanied the chocolate shade of her irises. He couldn't quite make out the freckles on her cheeks, the ones he'd always made sure to take notice of. The outline of her perfectly plump lips didn't appear to be as strong as before, which was a travesty all its own, Elena Gilbert's flawlessly sculpted pout, which was sometimes the root of his own wisecracks but more often than not just the point of his fixation, not getting every ounce of attention it deserved was unacceptable. Though of course he liked to think that the looks he shot teenage boys in The Grill when he caught their stares lingering too long were justified, he was her personal bodyguard, and it had nothing to do with the deep amusement he felt when sheer terror whitewashed the faces of sex driven minors.

It was while he was taking mental notes on these faults that it dawned on him that this couldn't be a momentary fault in his vision, and his brows furrowed when the shift from Elena's side barely caught his attention. An unexpected move like that should have his senses on high alert, but as he swiftly turned his eyes to inspect the source of the movement, he was only met with the sight of a broken looking Stefan. He looked exhausted. Drained. And once again, fucking blurry! What was going on here?!

"We thought we lost you, brother." Stefan spoke out in a cracked voice and the words earned a new sniff from Elena, and it was at that point that his mind wouldn't allow him to settle his gaze on one point.

Elena. Stefan. The furniture that failed to draw his attention to the barely notable detail. The stairs to Elena's room, the ones he'd climbed more times than the brother of her ex probably should have. The family pictures that hung on the wall, some too far away to name the faces beside the olive toned one he'd always know, even in a state like this. The burning fire that should have been a more vibrant red. The carpet. The coffee table. The TV that wasn't driving his crazy due to being able to make out every speck of dust across the screen. With a fist crashing against the arm of the chair he sat it, he pushed himself to his feet and realised his breathing had become laboured during his frantic inspection of his surroundings.

Wide oceanic eyes found their way back to the other two inhabitants of the room, whose eyes had also grown in a new kind of fear, and with as much conviction as was possible in the midst of a panic attack, he forced the words from his mouth like they were acid that he needed to rid his body of. "What. Happened. To me."

Elena's hands fidgeted instantly, and though it may not have been as attention catching as it should be to him, he still didn't fail to miss one of her trademark quirks. She was longing to do something, but was restraining herself more than likely due to inner conflict. The action was like second nature to her when she was in his presence.

Stefan rose to his feet from where he had been perched on the arm of the chair Elena occupied, and his hand instantly rose to rub his fingers back and forth across the creases of his forehead.

"Spit it out, Stefan," Damon knew his little brother well, and he'd be damned if he was going to stand here for the next four hours waiting for him to string together a coherent and informative sentence.

He was met with a gaze filled with pain and he had no choice but to look away. Even when they weren't on the very greatest of terms, he still couldn't take that look on Stefan's face. He never could, even when they were kids and Stefan's lower lip was wobbling, his cheeks were stained and he was stumbling through his apology for having let the rabbit out and the dog had caught it before before anyone else had.

"We thought we lost you," the raspiness to his voice let Damon know that Stefan was holding back the tears he'd surely let loose once Elena was no longer around, he never was one to risk Elena being any more upset than she already way.

"Well, you didn't. So why don't you answer the question I actually asked. What is going on with me?" Everything was beginning to build up again. The annoyance. The feeling of being unable to guard himself. Feeling inadequate. Nothing felt right. Nothing sounded right. He'd even had to hide the pang of nostalgia for how his brother's voice had somehow reminded him of their years together back in 1864. Wrong. It was the word to describe everything right now. His own mind was about to drive itself insane with how on edge he felt. So with the last grips on his sanity barely intact and his impatience for an answer spurring him on, his head shot back in Stefan's direction and he barked out, "What the hell is going on, Stefan?!"

He seen his brother visibly flinch, but chose to ignore the display of fear in hopes of it getting a damn response out of him. "We think.." he shifted on his feet for a moment and his mouth opened and closed as if he was speaking, but no sound came out.

"You think," Damon coaxed.

Another whimper from Elena dared his attention to break, but he held his ground and kept his gaze locked on Stefan.

"We think that Esther used some sort of spell on you. A strong one. It..it was like it reversed everything. It shouldn't be possible. None of it is. It's not real. It can't be." Slowly, Stefan's words grew to incomprehensible mumbles and their pace quickened as he went on, and he began to pace, that was the last straw for Damon. The reminder of the off sounding footsteps that had woke him in the first place, it was the last thing he could take.

"**What **was reversed, _Stefan_?"

In that moment, he basically saw the switch in his brother's head flip, and his heated glare was turned on him, his hand flying out towards Damon in an indicating motion.

"You're human, Damon! Human!"

_**Reviews are love!  
>(They make my heart all tingly and that makes me want to continue, so encouragement is..encouraged!)<strong>_


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